


Passive

by kiboutozetsubou



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [3]
Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: And yet, M/M, i didnt want to write this, post-sdr2 angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5801677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiboutozetsubou/pseuds/kiboutozetsubou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passive

**Author's Note:**

> yeeeepp, so the prompt was komahina for "You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you" and i was very upset but I WROTE THRU THE PAIN

“Everyone’s doing alright. I don’t know if you’d be glad to hear that.” 

Silence greets my words. I’m not surprised. My fingers grasp onto a limp white hand, squeezing tightly, as though it might cause the hand to squeeze back. 

“They’re all awake. But you knew that already.” 

Does he? I come here every day to talk to him, but can he even hear me? I can’t afford to think that he can’t.

“It was rough at first, but I think things have settled down. Naegi’s been visiting us and helping to make sure everything’s going smoothly. The Future Foundation is tolerant of the whole thing, for now…” 

I sit down beside the bed. With my free hand I push my hair out of my eyes. It’s starting to grow again, I need to cut it.

“I think you’d like to meet Naegi. They call him Super High School Level Hope, you know? And I guess in a way all of the Future Foundation represents hope. I’m sure that’s how you’d think of it, anyway.” 

I crack a wry smile, I don’t know why. No one can see it. 

“They said maybe one day in the future I can join the Future Foundation. It sounds nice, helping to make the world a better place again. I almost feel like maybe I’m obligated to help fix it, considering…” 

I don’t like to think about the role I had in all of this, so I trail off.

“Anyway, I think the others feel the same. I wonder if you’d be proud of us? Or if you’d think we had no right? We conquered despair, but maybe you still hate us for what we were? I guess there are still some things I don’t know about you.” 

I stare at his face as though he might answer, or at least reprimand me for being unable to understand him. His eyes remain closed, face as white as the sheets he lay on. I don’t want to say he looks peaceful, because that’s what they say about people who are dead. And he’s not.

“I wouldn’t care if you hated us,” I blurt out. “I wouldn’t care if you despised me for what I did, whether you yelled at me or if you just gave me that cold disgusted look of yours. I wouldn’t care if you never spoke to me again. Just wake up, alright? We can deal with the rest of it later.” 

My gaze is locked on his still face, but I can’t see it as well as I want to, my vision is blurred.

“I know maybe you don’t want to…” My voice is unsteady but I press on. For what? Can he even hear me? But he has to. “You wanted to die, right? Sorry, but that didn’t work out. So you have to wake up.” 

No movement. I almost expected there might be. I have to disagree with him, hope is a cruel thing after all. 

He looks so eerily beautiful lying there, I can’t help but consider leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. I think for one maddening second that this might help-- it always does in the fairy tales, right?

But whatever story I’m in right now certainly isn’t a fairy tale. And I don’t want to kiss him, not now--that’s the sort of thing I want to wait for, to do hopefully some day when he can consent to it. 

“It’s not fair if you don’t wake up. You have to take responsibility, you know? Face up to reality like everyone else did. Don’t be a coward.” 

My hostile tone bleeds away as my voice cracks. My cheeks are wet, when did that happen? 

“Please just wake up…” 

I squeeze the hand again, this time with both of mine. I hope it hurts. 

It’s been months since the last person woke up, I think to myself, my breath ragged and tears streaming down my cheeks. 

I can’t tell if this is lucky or unlucky for him. I really can’t. 

“You need to wake up…I can’t do this without you.”

But I do know one thing--hope is cruel. 


End file.
